


to lose my life or to lose my love

by fatalesam (samej)



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Introspection, M/M, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Tony Has Issues, sufro como tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 00:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17518430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samej/pseuds/fatalesam
Summary: He did what had to be done, and isn’t that what he always does?





	to lose my life or to lose my love

**Author's Note:**

> This was for the weekly challenge in dreamwidth on [this prompt](https://fandomweekly.dreamwidth.org/177551.html) (devil's advocate) but I was late. Well, first fic finished in roughly half a year so that's ok.
> 
> At some point I should forget about Civil War and what did to me (both comics and film) but I am not at that point yet.
> 
> Also English is not my first language, so thanks spiderbalder for the quick look <3

Tony knows he did good. 

No, good is not the word, not when he is still looking for a way that could have been better. He did what had to be done, and isn’t that what he always does? Surviving, helping more people. Steve cannot understand, he thinks, because he had been trying to save people from the start; Tony was not like that when he was young, was he? Tony was selfish, petty, broken. He didn’t care where the money came from as long as it kept coming, he would invent and build and think about bombs and guns and would not care about the people that they killed. 

He was not judge, jury, nor executioner; he had nothing except his own stupid life to worry about. 

Steve was not like that. He was always trying to save people, go to war, sacrifice, and there is a part of Tony that tries to argue with the “I did what I had to do” part. There are two Tonys (there are a hundred Tonys) inside his brain, blaming himself for not doing better, blaming Steve for being Steve.

Sometimes, the pro-Steve is gaining territory, and Tony knows positively that is also the one that tries to make him remember the best moments between Steve and him. 

Quiet nights at the Avengers Tower, healing wounds and feverish and _together_ , Tony half asleep with his legs on Steve’s lap, Steve’s strong hands massaging his feet. “You know”, he used to say, “at some moment the rest of the team should know about this”. “Later” would answer Tony, invariably, because he knew it would end and that it would be so much better if no one could blame him about that, too. 

He tries to match that soft, lovely image with the last time he saw him and it’s impossible, the rage, the hate, the murderous intent in his eyes. 

_He was protecting his friend_ , he thinks, trying to defend the indefensible, fooling himself into thinking he could forgive that look, even if he’d ask for it. That lie, the worst of all, the lie. He can’t forgive him. He will not. 

And yet, he remembers.

Quiet mornings in Steve’s apartment, small and cozy and decorated with small presents, from Tony, from the other Avengers. Tony making coffee in the kitchen and soft steps behind him; a presence he couldn’t (he cannot) ignore; kisses on his nape and Steve’s huge hands on his hips, fingers tickling the almost-still-asleep skin under the sweatpants. 

Tony would think _please_ , and then _let me have this one month more_ , turn around, _just one week more_ , raise his hand to touch Steve’s face, just _one day_ , and kiss him.

The month, the week, ended and the day came; maybe later than he thought, but it came just the same. 

It’s a weird thing now, in his chest, like something locked and hidden and secret. He doesn’t think Steve has said anything, or maybe he has, and he hates Bucky so much that the sole thought of him knowing that about him makes him feel exposed and vulnerable. 

There is a part of him that thinks “kill him”. It’s becoming weaker everyday, because he knows (he knows) what can do to someone to be brainwashed but it’s still there, like a bullet wound that still has shrapnel all around the edges. 

The alarm goes off and for a second Tony thinks about not answering it. Leave the fucking suit alone, maybe try falling in love with Pepper again, live a fucking quiet life and forget all about Steve and his huge hands and the way he used to spoon him like an octopus. 

Then he opens his eyes, stares at the ceiling, and raises from the bed.


End file.
